Whoniverse One-Shots
by Shian1998
Summary: My collection of one-shots I've written that are set within the universe of Doctor Who and its spinoffs. Possible spoilers if you haven't seen certain parts of the franchise.
1. The Curator

**1\. The Curator:**

 **Hi everyone. This is where I'll be uploading all my one-shots set in the Doctor Who Universe. Most of these will be more related to the main show, though as I become more familiar with its spinoffs I'll write some for those as well. Please take the time to read and tell me what you think. If you have any feedback I could use, I would definitely appreciate that. Though no rude comments please. :)**

 **Also, if you are not caught up with certain parts of the franchise, some of these could potentially have spoilers, so be aware of that.**

 **If this is read by anyone who's waiting for the next chapter of my first story 'In Memory of Carl Grimes', I'm so sorry for how long I've been taking. I had meant to get it done a lot sooner. I'm trying to get a few one-shots done for Christmas (for this and my other one-shot collections), but after that I promise I will focus on getting the rest of 'In Memory of Carl Grimes' done.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of its spinoffs or anything else that's part of the franchise.**

—

The elderly man strode through the Under-Gallery beneath London's National Gallery, casually observing the various paintings and other pieces of art as he passed them. He could easily remember the location and details of every single piece of artwork throughout the museum without having to look at them, having passed them almost every day for the last several hundred years. Still, he continued to check each one, knowing the dangerous nature of these arts. There had been many times when he'd had to contain strange threats that emerged from the Under-Gallery's contents.

This time was different though. When the paintings were found with shattered shards of glass in front of them, with figures missing from them, he allowed U.N.I.T to bring in a certain traveler instead of handling it himself, knowing from a distant memory that this needed to happen the way it had just had.

And now he had to witness the conclusion of this event.

He stopped a little outside the entrance to one of the gallery's rooms, hearing the muffled voices of four people from within. Or two people, if he thought about it in a certain way. He smiled at this. These kinds of paradoxes never ceased to amuse him.

 _Vworp, vworp, vworp, vworp, vworp._

The old Curator suddenly felt nostalgic as he heard that familiar sound. It had been so long since he had last heard it, yet he could never forget it, nor could the years take away the feeling of hope the sound always brought to those who heard it. He also felt some sadness, knowing this particular sound meant the Doctor's life from the Time War, having just been freed from the burden of the conflict, was ending, and his next regeneration would be yet again consumed with guilt from the false belief that he'd massacred his own people.

 _Vworp, vworp, vworp, vworp, vworp._

And that was the departure of the incarnation that called himself the Tenth Doctor. Only two voices could be heard from within now. The Curator got ready, knowing his part was coming.

"Oh, by the way, there was an old man looking for you. I think it was the curator."

Hearing that voice again brought him back to the first time he heard it that day, less than an hour earlier when he'd asked her to tell her Doctor he wanted to speak to him. He had kept an outwardly appearance of composure, knowing Clara did not know who he really was or what her future would entail, yet he'd felt quite emotional in that moment. Happy to once again see his old friend, his Impossible Girl, yet sad as it had been an extraordinarily long time since he had lost her.

Seconds after hearing Clara enter her Doctor's T.A.R.D.I.S, the Curator walked into the room. The face he saw there he had not seen for many lifetimes, yet he immediately recognised it, as he would recognise all of the faces worn by the same being. The Eleventh Doctor was sitting on the bench gazing at the painting of the Time War's Last Day. It had not been easy to capture that image, the Curator recalled, having to once again do the impossible and break through the time lock.

"I could be a curator," the Eleventh Doctor spoke aloud to himself, drawing the older man's attention. "I'd be great a curating. I'd be the Great Curator." He laughed, then continued. "I could retire, and do that. I could retire and be the curator of this place."

The Curator smiled at the irony, then said to him, "You know I really think you might."

The Doctor turned towards him, then rose to his feet and moved closer, eyebrows furrowed with surprise and recognition. He then smirked and told him "I never forget a face."

"I know you don't, and in years to come you might find yourself revisiting a few, but just the old favourites," the Curator responded, referring to his more recent regenerations, nostalgia influencing them to repeat some of his earlier faces.

After the Doctor winked in response, the Curator turned to the painting. He hadn't heard the Doctor's previous conversation, but he could still faintly remember it, from other lifetimes.

" _What is it actually called?"_

" _Either No More, or Gallifrey Falls."_

" _Not very encouraging."_

"You were curious about this painting, I think," the Curator said. "I acquired it in remarkable circumstances. What do you make of the title?"

The Doctor looked down forlornly and asked in response, "Which title, there's two? No More, or Gallifrey Falls."

The Curator, wanting to dispel the sadness he could see in the Doctor's eyes, that same sadness that had driven him to dark places many times, shook his head and said "No, you see that's where everybody's wrong. It's all one title. Gallifrey Falls No More. Now, what would you think that means, hey?"

Hope suddenly shown in the Doctor's eyes as he smiled and said "That Gallifrey didn't fall. It worked! It's still out there!"

"I'm only a humble curator. I'm sure I wouldn't know," the Curator said, starting to turn away.

"Then where is it?" the Doctor asked.

The Curator turned back and said "Where is it indeed. Lost!" He suddenly shushed himself, not wanting to get carried away and give spoilers. River's admonishments about that had never been forgotten. "Perhaps, things do get lost you know. Now you must excuse me. Oh, you have a lot to do."

"Do I?" the Doctor asked excitedly. "Is that what I'm supposed to do now? Go looking for Gallifrey?"

"That's entirely up to you. Your choice. I can only tell you what I would do. If I were you-" the Curator suddenly laughed at what he said. "If I were you-. Perhaps I was you of course. Or perhaps, you are me."

The Curator and the Doctor chuckled together at this, then the Curator shook hands with the Doctor and congratulated him for his recent accomplishments in saving Gallifrey and creating peace between the Humans and Zygons.

"Or perhaps it doesn't matter either way. Who knows? Who knows?" the Curator said, tapping his finger to his nose, before he turned and walked out of the room and back down the hall, mentally wishing the younger man good luck for his future.

The ageing Time Lord proceeded to walk back through the gallery, thinking about the man he'd just left. He envied him for believing the Time War was the worst thing he'd go through, and for creating a better ending for it, ignorant of the horrors still to come. The nine century long Siege of Trenzalore. The four and a half billion years spent trapped within the hellish conditions of his confession dial. Losing his wife and fellow time traveler River, and later tragically losing his oldest frenemy just as she had begun to redeem herself. And countless more conflicts, particularly against old and vicious enemies such as Rassilon, Davros, the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Weeping Angels, and so many others. And finally succumbing to his own darkness.

His time as the ruthless Valeyard had been catastrophic, resulting in a significant amount of destruction. He was eternally grateful towards the friends he had at the time, who had not left in disgust and instead helped bring him back, as he had previously brought Missy back. The reformed traveler spent so many years afterwards dedicating himself to repairing the damage he had caused, and fighting harder than ever before to protect people from those with malicious intentions.

Only now there were no more battles for him to fight. All of his enemies were gone now, having been finally stopped for good. And while the universe would always have people fighting each other, hardly any of them needed him anymore.

Weary after his many, many lifetimes of defending the universe, and desperate for a chance to recuperate from his countless battles in peace, the ancient Time Lord had retired from his traveling and hidden himself away on Earth, starting a quiet life as the curator of London's National Gallery. And there he had remained since, watching over the Under-Gallery's various pieces of art while also waiting to talk to his past self.

The Curator stopped in front of a supply closet and opened it, revealing a familiar blue box. The T.A.R.D.I.S he had stolen so very long ago. His one constant companion, the only one to stay while all others had eventually left. As he gazed towards it, hearing that soothing humming sound that always made him feel at peace, he felt tempted to once again let her fly him somewhere, to see the stars again. He debated with himself for a moment; one voice saying he was old and tired, had done everything he needed to do for the universe and would inevitably be drawn into another conflict; another voice saying he had rested enough over the past few centuries, had made peace with himself, and should have another opportunity to explore the cosmos.

"What do you say, old girl?" the ancient Doctor murmured to his beloved T.A.R.D.I.S. "Should us weary old souls have one last adventure?"


	2. Christmas in the Vault (Christmas Specia

**2\. Christmas in the Vault (Christmas Special):**

 **Hi everyone. Here's my next Doctor Who one-shot, which I wrote for the recent Christmas. This is set during the first Christmas during the time that the Doctor guards Missy in the Vault.**

 **I had meant to write this and my other Christmas one-shots in time to upload on Christmas Day, but I kept leaving all the writing way too late, which I'm really annoyed with myself for. Despite how late this is, I still wanted to write this, and I didn't want to hold it off for a whole year, so here it is. Hope you all had a great Christmas and Happy New Year.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor Who series, the Doctor or Missy.**

—

"I see my great jailer has decided to grace me with his presence today," Missy called as she heard the Vault's door open behind her. "Did you bring the bald one? He's always fun to torment." She then turn to face the entrance, only to stare in shock. "What is that?"

"Hello Missy," the Doctor greeted her. "No, Nardole is not here this time. And no tormenting him. Remember, tormenting people is something you're supposed to stop doing. We've talked about this, remember." He then asked "What's what?"

"That," Missy prompted. The Doctor continued to look confused. "That _thing_ on your head,' Missy clarified with disgust in her voice.

"There's something on my head?" the Doctor asked. Missy stared, stunned by his obliviousness. He reached a hand up to feel his head, finally noticing the red hat he was wearing. "Oh, didn't realise that was still there." He looked back at Missy and told her "It's a Santa hat."

"A Santa hat," Missy repeated incredulously. "And why are you wearing it?"

"Because it's Christmas," the Doctor answered. "You know, that holiday celebrated by humanity at the end of every year, where people get together to give gifts to their friends and family and show how much they care-"

"Yes, yes! I know what Christmas is," the irritated Missy interrupted. "I am aware of the stupid traditions that these stupid little Humans like to have. I have been to Earth before. I meant why are _you_ wearing it?"

"The university was holding a Christmas party for the students and lecturers. I attended it," the Doctor explained.

"Okay, that sounds real fun," Missy said sarcastically. "Now would you mind removing that abomination, since you no longer need it?"

The Doctor paused for a moment, then answered "Actually I'm going to keep wearing it for now."

"Why?" Missy asked.

"Because we're celebrating Christmas," the Doctor stated cheerfully.

Silence reigned for a few seconds.

"No!" Missy protested after a moment. "I am not one of your dumb little pet _Apes_. I will not lower myself to their pathetic standards."

"That attitude is why I think you really need this," the Doctor lectured her. "If you actually take the time to learn about them, without the perspective of a conqueror, I'm sure you'll come to see that they're not beneath us but rather equally important."

"I doubt that," Missy muttered.

"Also," the Doctor continued, ignoring her last comment, "as I said, Christmas is spent with friends and family, and you are my oldest friend in the universe, so I want to spend it with you."

There was silence for a moment, then, "Ugh, fine," Missy groaned, while trying to ignore the part of her that was happy about his words, that wanted to spend time with her old friend without any real hostility between them. "Whatever you want."

The Doctor grinned victoriously, then carried in three boxes, setting them on the floor near their seats. He aimed his sonic screwdriver at one of the boxes, causing it to open and a Christmas tree to rise out of it. Missy scoffed at this, but made no further protests. Opening the second box, the Doctor brought out a Christmas pudding, several cupcakes and a number of other snacks. The Doctor set out the dishes between them, and dug into the meal. Missy tried to continue acting reluctant to celebrate with him, but gave in and joined him. The two proceeded to eat in silence, content with the moment they were sharing together.

After they finished, the Doctor then picked up the last box and handed it over to Missy, who looked confused as she took it. "What the hell is this?" she asked.

"Your present," the Doctor answered.

"Oh hells," Missy cursed, exasperated. "I tolerated sharing a Christmas dinner with you," She tried to cover up her reluctant enjoyment of it. "but there's only so much of Earth's traditions that I can take. We're Time Lords. We're supposed to be above them."

"Come on, Missy. Just open it would you?" the Doctor insisted.

Missy glared at him stubbornly, then finally started ripping open the wrapping. "Fine Doctor," Missy said, frustrated. "But this better be something worthwhile. If I find you've given me something too pathetic, too sappy, too Human, I swear that I'll-I'll-" she stuttered and trailed off, gazing in shock at what was in the present. A landscape picture the Doctor had painted. In the painting, Missy saw a group of people, clearly a band, performing on a stage. Most of the players seemed quite familiar, but two were instantly recognisable to her. The first incarnation of the Doctor, leading with his perigosto stick, and her own first incarnation, sitting behind a set of drums. At the top of the painting was the title _Gallifrey Academy Hot Five_.

She swallowed, trying to bottle up her emotions as memories she had not thought about in a very long time came back to her. Memories from a much simpler time, a more peaceful time. Memories from before everything changed for them. Before the animosity, before the violence, before the bitterness and hatred. Before the chaos. Before her insanity.

"Do you remember when we used to play in that band?" she heard the Doctor ask her. Looking up, she saw him looking towards her, a sad smile on his face. "Do you remember those days, back at the Academy, with the rest of our friends? When our biggest problems were being punished after giving our tutors hell?" Missy was unresponsive for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

After they sat in silence for a few more minutes, the Doctor continued speaking. "You know why I have to keep you in here, right?" Not waiting for a response, he continued. "You've spent so many centuries committing countless crimes. I can't trust you enough to let you out. I wish I could trust you, but I cannot do that." He paused for a moment, then kept going. "But I hope that that's possible one day. Because I do truly believe that the friend you once were is still there somewhere in you. And one day, I hope to have that friend back."

The Doctor then rose to his feet and began to approach the exit. Upon arriving at the door, he turned back to Missy, smiled at her and said "Merry Christmas, Koschei." He then walked out, leaving Missy alone in the Vault once more.

Missy sat quietly for a few moments, looking towards where he had been standing. She turned her eyes back to the painting she still held, thinking about what he had just said to her. Gazing at the painting, Missy quietly muttered "Merry Christmas, Theta."

—

 **For anyone that's confused about the names they called each other at the end, according to the Doctor Who wiki site some of the extended universe stories concerning their childhood showed that the Doctor, the Master, the Rani and the rest of their group of friends (known as the Deca) from the Prydonian Academy had various nicknames for each other. The Doctor was known as Theta Sigma and the Master was Koschei. See the Doctor Who wiki page for the Deca if you want to know the others. The information about the Gallifrey Academy Hot Five I also got from Doctor Who wiki.**


	3. The Fall of Trenzalore and its Protector

**3\. The Fall of Trenzalore and its Protector:**

 **My next Doctor Who one-shot here. This one is a dark, alternate ending to the 2013 Christmas special The Time of the Doctor, resulting from the Time Lords choosing to ignore Clara's plea for help.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor Who series, the Doctor, Clara, the T.A.R.D.I.S or Trenzalore.**

—

The Doctor sat in front of the now extremely familiar crack, carving a wooden toy while trying to distract himself from the constant sounds of explosions and screams.

He could barely remember anymore how long he had been on Trenzalore. He knew it had been many centuries by now. Centuries of constantly fighting many of the universe's species to protect the peoples of Trenzalore and Gallifrey. Too many centuries, as he had now become an old man, too weak to keep fighting. His mind had also begun to leave him, evidenced by some of his memories blurring together and getting muddled.

He stopped carving for a moment and glared morosely at the tear in the fabric of the universe. Through that crack, he thought to himself, was his home. The planet he had grown up on, the people he had been raised by, the Prydonian Academy, the burnt orange sky with grey clouds and twin suns, the silver leaves and the red grass, the major cities including Arcadia and the Capitol, the green forests and golden fields and red deserts, the barn he had slept in as a child, the fields near Mount Perdition where he and the Master used to run together. The home he had once believed he had destroyed to end the Time War, only to realise he had saved it by transporting it to a pocket universe. Since his revelation he had intended to restore his home to its rightful place, and now he could do just that. All he had to do was say his name, proving to the Time Lords that he was there to protect them as they came through. Only now he couldn't, as the Daleks and so many others were desperate to destroy the Time Lords, to the point where they were willing to destroy the people of Trenzalore in the process. Even the Doctor's allies in the Church of the Silence had threatened to sacrifice Trenzalore to stop the Time Lords from coming through. The Doctor knew that if the Time Lords did succeed in coming back to their universe, a new Time War would start between them and the many races that wished to see them gone. Not for the first time, the Doctor cursed Rassilon and the High Council for their countless horrific war crimes that alienated their species from the rest of the universe. He then looked away from the crack and went back to carving the toy.

Moments later, the Doctor heard the door open and close, followed by quiet footsteps slowly approaching from behind. Thinking it might be that boy that befriended him during the Siege, the Doctor called out "Barnable?"

The voice that answered was most definitely not Barnable, yet despite it having been so long since he last heard it, he recognised it immediately. "Clara."

Dropping the toy in shock, the old Doctor shifted in his seat and turned to look at the woman. It had been several centuries since he had last seen his friend, since he broke his promise to never send her away and left her on Earth, and he had believed he would never see her again. Yet there she stood, smiling sadly at him, looking exactly as he remembered her. "Hello Doctor," she said to him.

The Doctor removed his glasses and looked at her in wonder. "Were you always so young?" he asked.

Clara smiled in amusement and answered "Nah, that was you."

The Doctor smiled and reached out a hand to Clara, prompting her to close the remaining distance and take his hand. Part of him wished she had not returned, as he knew the town's defences would not last much longer and they all likely did not have much time left, but mostly he was glad to have the chance to see her one last time before the end. He pulled her hand towards him and kissed it.

"Merry Christmas," Clara said to him as she shook his hand before crouching in front of him.

"Merry Christmas," he responded to her. She then held out the Christmas cracker she had been carrying. He reached a hand to grab the offered end of the cracker and tried to pull it, but found his age had taken too much of his strength, rendering him unable to do so.

"Hey, it's okay," Clara reassured him as she placed a hand over his to help him. "It's fine, don't worry."

With Clara's help, the Doctor pulled open the cracker. "Ah," the Doctor said in triumph, then asked as Clara took the note out of the cracker, "Is there a joke?" hoping for something funny to distract him from what was coming.

Clara sat down next to the Doctor, leaned against his knee and read from the note, "Extract from _Thoughts on a Clock_ by Eric Richie Jr."

"Is it a knock-knock one?" the Doctor asked. "Those are the best."

Clara shook her head and said "I don't think so."

"Well read it, go on," the Doctor insisted, eager to hear it.

Clara proceeded to read it. "And now it's time for one last bow, Like all your other selves. Eleven's hour is over now, The clock is striking twelve's."

Instead of amusement, the Doctor felt the dread that had been previously building up fill him once again. Fate seemed to have a funny sense of humour, he thought sarcastically, reminding him in this way of his upcoming doom. Trying to diffuse it, the Doctor nonchalantly stated "I don't get it."

"DOCTOR!" The Doctor and Clara looked up at the sound of the voice from the approaching Dalek mothership. "THE DOCTOR WILL BE BROUGHT! THE DALEKS DEMAND THE DOCTOR!"

Suddenly, the door burst open and a young man came running in as Clara stood up. "They're here," he said to the Doctor. "The Daleks, we can't stop them. They want you."

"Alright Barnable," the Doctor said. He took another look at the man and asked. "Are you Barnable?"

"No, Doctor," he answered.

"It's okay Barnable," the Doctor continued. "Don't worry, I", he raised a finger and tapped it to his nose, "have got a plan. Off you pop." The Doctor saw hope appear in the man's eyes, before he turned and ran back outside. The Doctor turned back towards Clara, who was looking at him as if she was trying to determine what he was thinking.

"I haven't got a plan," the Doctor confessed to her as he reached for his cane and stood up. "The people love it when I say that."

"Doctor, what are you going to do?" Clara asked, sounding worried.

"I don't know," he rasped, groaning as he straightened up. "Talk very fast. Hope something good happens. Take the credit. That's normally how it works."

"Doctor," Clara said as she tried to catch up to him, as he'd begun walking towards the stairs leading to the tower's top.

"Not this time, though," the Doctor said as he turn back to her. "This is it."

"No!" Clara exclaimed, distraught.

"Yes," the Doctor said firmly. "We saw the future, Clara," he reminded her, thinking back to the other time they visited Trenzalore, where they found the dead T.A.R.D.I.S surrounded by a large graveyard. The future he had known he was heading towards ever since Tasha Lem told him so long ago that he was on Trenzalore. He turned back to the stairs and said "This is how it ends."

"Change it," Clara demanded. "Like Tasha said, change the future."

"I could have once," the Doctor stated as he headed towards the staircase, "when there were Time Lords. Not anymore."

As he reached the staircase, he noticed Clara run to catch up to him. "No," he told her, "you're gonna stay here. Promise me you will."

"Why?" Clara asked, her voice shaky.

"I'll be keeping you safe," the Doctor answered. He shrugged and continued. "One last victory," he said, thinking back to that conversation they had shared so long ago.

" _Every life I save is a victory. Every single one."_

"Allow me that," he asked her. "Give me that." He raised a hand behind her head and pulled her into a hug. "My Impossible Girl," he said fondly. "Thank you. And goodbye." He kissed the side of her head and moved back, seeing tears streaking down her cheeks. He wiped away a tear with his thumb, then turned and began his ascent.

"Trouble with Daleks is," the Doctor began, wanting to make one last quip, "it takes so long to say anything. I'll probably die of boredom before they shoot me."

"THE DOCTOR IS REQUIRED!" the Doctor heard the Daleks shout as he continued up the staircase. "DOCTOR!" he heard again seconds later. Moments later, he arrived at the roof, seeing the massive Dalek mothership looming over the town, smaller ships continuing to fly around shooting at those below. The Doctor prayed that, somehow, Clara would find an opportunity to escape back to the T.A.R.D.I.S and return home, that she would be safe.

"Sorry I was a bit slow," he announced as he reached the bell. "I may not be at my best right now."

"YOU ARE DYING, DOCTOR!" the Daleks stated.

"Yes," the Doctor responded as he sat down, "I'm dying. You've been trying to kill me for centuries and here I am, dying of old age. If you want something done, do it yourself."

"YOU WILL DIE, AND THE TIME LORDS WILL NEVER RETURN!"

"You still can't work up the courage to shoot me, can you?" the Doctor asked, mocking their fear of him and their inability to take the shot. "You're still worried I've got something up my sleeve!" He then went quiet and bitterly said "Well you can knock yourselves out, boys." He threw his hand, looked down and said "I've got nothing this time."

"YOU WILL DIE NOW, DOCTOR!" the Daleks continued. "THIS IS THE END OF YOU! THE RULES OF REGENERATION ARE KNOWN! YOU HAVE EXPENDED ALL YOUR LIVES!"

"Yes, I have," the Doctor whispered, feeling despair at the thought that the end truly had come after all these years. Wanting to end the mental torture of waiting for the inevitable, he muttered "Just get on with it."

A moment later, one of the Daleks flew towards the tower and hovered in front of him, seeming to have finally assured itself that he had no more tricks to use against them. "YOUR TIME TO DIE HAS NOW COME, DOCTOR!" it announced.

The Doctor watched the Dalek, mentally preparing himself for his final death. In his last moment, he hoped that Clara and the town's residents had gone into the T.A.R.D.I.S and flown away. He also wondered if, after his death, he would be able to see all the many loved ones he had lost over the years.

"EXTERMINATE!" the Dalek yelled. The Doctor saw a beam fire from the Dalek's weapon and shoot towards him, striking him in the chest. His Time Lord physiology resisted the damage for a moment, then he felt his body collapse to the floor, and he knew no more.

—

Clara stood frozen in absolute shock, staring at the top of the clock tower where the Doctor had just been sitting, unable to process what she had just seen.

It had to be a trick, she thought desperately. The Doctor tricked the Daleks somehow, and would reappear any moment now to gloat about his latest genius idea before defeating the Daleks in spectacular fashion. Or the Time Lords had answered her call for help, and had saved him somehow. He had to be alive. He had to. She couldn't just accept that he might actually be de-.

'No', she told herself. She wouldn't let herself think that way. She just needed to give him a chance.

'If he really had a plan,' a voice within her said, 'then why was he talking as if he was about to die. He would have reassured you otherwise. And where are the Time Lords now if they really had saved him?'

She desperately wanted to ignore her previous thought, to hold on to hope that he was still there. But she still had a horrible feeling about this.

"THE DOCTOR IS DEAD!" the Daleks screamed gleefully from their ship. Clara looked towards them and saw more and more Daleks flying down from their ship, their movements making their pure ecstasy very clear. "THE DOCTOR IS DEAD AT LAST! THE DALEKS HAVE EXTERMINATED THEIR GREATEST ENEMY! THE DALEKS ARE VICTORIOUS! THE DALEKS REIGN SUPREME! ALL HAIL THE DALEKS! EXTERMINATE ALL LIFEFORMS ON THE PLANET'S SURFACE! RAZE THE TOWN TO THE GROUND!"

Clara's bad feeling grew as dozens of Daleks swarmed down upon the town, weapons blasting buildings and structures apart and sending people running, shooting down anyone they saw, each blast accompanied by another cry of "EXTERMINATE!"

"Come on Doctor," Clara muttered desperately. "People are dying. We need you now. Where are you?"

'If the Doctor was alive,' the voice continued, 'he would be preventing this. He wouldn't hide away while innocent people died. Yet they are dying now.'

She wanted to keep ignoring those thoughts, but as she witnessed more chunks blasted off buildings, and more bodies dropping to the ground, the reality of the situation began to sink in, and she finally accepted the truth. That the Doctor, her best friend, was truly dead.

This revelation prompted numerous powerful emotions to consume her all at once. Overwhelming grief for her fallen friend, who had heroically risked his life to save others countless times throughout his long lives. Total rage and hatred for the monsters who had murdered him, as well as the cowards who had abandoned the Doctor after he had saved them from the horrors of the Time War and spent hundreds of years fighting to protect them. And despair for the inevitable fates for herself and the remaining survivors in the town.

A hand grabbed her arm from behind, prompting Clara to whirl around and move to defend herself, only to stop as she realised who it was. Tasha Lem stood before her, backed up by the few remaining fighters the town had left.

"This place is not going to last much longer," Tasha told her. "Gather as many of the civilians as you can and lead them to the T.A.R.D.I.S. We will buy you as much time as possible but it won't be long, so you have to hurry."

Clara hesitated for a moment, still distraught by her loss. She then steeled her resolve, nodded to Tasha and wished her good luck, and started to move past her.

"Take this," one of the soldiers told Clara, handing her a gun. Clara took it, nodded in thanks, and started running through the town, briefly glancing back to see Tasha and her soldiers racing towards their last stand against the Daleks.

Clara sprinted through the streets, yelling for anyone she found to follow her as she made her way towards the T.A.R.D.I.S. By the time she saw the ship, close to fifty survivors followed behind her. As they reached the blue box, it's doors swung open of their own accord, and Clara moved to the side while calling for the panicked civilians to get inside.

"Single file, everyone," she yelled as the civilians tried to push their way in. "No pushing and shoving, we won't make it if you keep panicking." The civilians struggled to calm themselves, and gradually made their way through the doors.

As Clara observed the people rushing to safety, an explosion suddenly went off in the direction she had led the people away from. Whirling around, Clara saw a Dalek rolling along the street towards them.

"EXTERMINATE!" it yelled. Before it could shoot anyone, Clara quickly lifted and aimed her gun and fired a shot, blasting the creature apart. Clara ducked behind the side of the T.A.R.D.I.S for cover and watched the street for approaching Daleks, hearing the sounds of more coming. She realised with a sinking feeling that Tasha and her soldiers must already be dead.

'I can't save them,' Clara thought in despair, glancing towards the crowd and seeing that too many of them were still outside of the ship, it's narrow doorway preventing them from getting through quickly enough.

" _Every life I save is a victory. Every single one."_

The Doctor's words from that Trenzalorian sunrise suddenly cut through her despair, gradually filling her with a grim sense of determination. Seeing how many people were still trying to get in, she knew that not all of them were going to make it.

'Including me,' she realised, but she ignored this thought.

But if the T.A.R.D.I.S left before it was too late, anyone who had made it onboard would survive.

Clara placed her hand onto the wall of the ship. As her hand made contact with it, she suddenly sensed the crushing feeling of grief and loss currently being felt by the sentient box.

"We can't save them all," Clara whispered to the ship, "but we can save some of them. It's what he would want." She paused for a moment, then after regaining her composure, continued. "Wait as long as you can, so that we can save as many as possible. But when the Daleks get too close, leave immediately, no matter how many of us you have to leave behind. Please, you have to do this, or nobody gets away alive." Clara waited for a moment, then felt the T.A.R.D.I.S reluctantly agreeing with her.

Clara, knowing she would be exposed when the T.A.R.D.I.S dematerialised if she stayed there, moved out from behind and ran towards a pile of rubble positioned between the T.A.R.D.I.S and the street the Daleks were coming from. She knew she would die here, but she'd rather die fighting than by getting slaughtered the second the ship disappeared. Crouching behind the rubble, she glanced over it and saw several more Daleks arriving. Acting quickly, she fired another shot at the enemy before ducking back down.

"EXTERMINATE!" the Daleks shouted as they saw her duck down, and immediately Clara felt the impact on the rubble as a continuous stream of rapid-fire shots hit the pile, preventing her from getting back up. Clutching her weapon, Clara heard the sounds of more and more Daleks drawing closer.

 _SLAM!_ Clara glanced back to see that the T.A.R.D.I.S had closed it's doors and was dematerialising, leaving behind about twenty people stranded in the open, screaming and crying in fear.

"Bring it back! Help us!" one of them shouted at Clara, before screams of agony suddenly erupted from the crowd as blasts from the Daleks shot towards them, slaughtering them in seconds. Clara felt sickened with guilt as she listened to their screams and watched them dropping to the ground, knowing they had been relying on her to save them. She also felt horrible for her family, who were waiting for her at Christmas dinner on Earth and would never know what happened to her. But a part of her was also satisfied that she had managed to save some of the people from the Daleks, and believed the Doctor would have been proud of her.

" _Every life I save is a victory. Every single one."_

"Got you a few more victories," Clara murmured, clutching her weapon as she prepared herself for the end. "Sorry I couldn't get you this one. See you soon, my Doctor."

Not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer, Clara jumped up to fire another shot at the Daleks. Before she could see if she hit her target, her whole world suddenly became fire and agony, followed by everything going black.

—

The T.A.R.D.I.S finally made it's way back to the battlefield of Trenzalore. Once a cosy and lively town known as Christmas, now an empty and burnt out ruin. Not a single structure remained standing, each one reduced to smoking piles of rubble. Debris, corpses and remnants of destroyed Daleks littered the streets.

The sentient ship scanned the surrounding streets, quickly locating the corpse of Clara Oswald. The woman had shown a lot of bravery in her final moments, remaining unbroken by her grief and sacrificing herself to save as many people as she could. The T.A.R.D.I.S felt bad for the way she had treated the Doctor's final companion during her earlier adventures. Clara had truly proven herself worthy of traveling with her and the Doctor. And she had honoured the woman's sacrifice by taking the surviving Trenzalorians to a safe planet and ensuring that they would be able to start new lives there.

The T.A.R.D.I.S turned her attention to the Doctor, scanning the ruins for him. After a moment, her senses detected his remnants buried within one of the destroyed buildings. No life signals came from that location, or anywhere else on the planet, confirming beyond all doubt what she had already known but wanted to deny. That the Doctor, her one constant companion, had truly died.

The T.A.R.D.I.S had felt grief before, particularly after losing certain companions before their time. But no previous experience compared to this. Nothing had ever rendered her this consumed by grief, this empty of all other emotions. Like she'd had a massive part of her soul ripped away, leaving a gaping hole in its place.

She could barely imagine life without the Doctor. It had been millennia since the renegade Time Lord had stolen her from that Gallifreyan repair shop, or since she had stolen him, and they had been traveling all of time and space together ever since. She had come to think it would never end. Yet now he was gone, and this time he would never come back. She did not believe she could ever be able to move forward from this.

And she did not intend to.

Dematerialising from the street she had arrived at, she reappeared at the Doctor's location, deleted the console from her console room and manipulated the dimensions in order to transport the Doctor's remains to the now empty space, becoming his tomb. She then moved to a nearby location that was clear enough for what she knew would eventually happen to her. And there she would remain.

As the years passed, she continued to mourn for the man she had lost, reminiscing on her memories of the many, many years they had traveled together. So many adventures over the millennia, journeying throughout all of time and space. Exploring the cosmos, witnessing monumental events, discovering hidden wonders, saving countless planets and civilisations, battling monsters, meeting amazing people, passing through, helping out, learning. Overtime, she felt the Doctor's remains dissolve into the fabric of the space-time continuum, the excessive amount of time-travel within the Doctor's lifespan tearing a hole into his timeline. The same tear she knew that a nine hundred year younger Doctor would later enter in order to save his Impossible Girl.

Many years later, long after the bodies from the battlefield had become dust, the T.A.R.D.I.S felt the outside of her ship start to expand, continuing to do so until it looked as big as the inside, meaning that the dimensions inside her had started leaking outside. A sign telling her that the end for her was near. With a little more manipulating of the nearby dimensions, she created a hidden entrance to some catacombs leading to her, covering the entrance with a false grave labelled River Song, setting the final stage for the future of this planet the younger Doctor would eventually visit. As she allowed herself to succumb to the darkness, her final thought was that the universe was going to miss the Doctor.


	4. Pack of Claras

**4\. Pack of Claras:**

 **This is set in the immediate aftermath of the minisode Clara and the Tardis, with the Doctor discovering the situation. I hope you think this is good. If you haven't seen it, watch the above minisode for context before reading this.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor Who series, the Doctor, Clara, or the T.A.R.D.I.S.**

—

The Doctor strode through the T.A.R.D.I.S corridors towards the console room, ready for another day of traveling through time and space, and wondering where he should take Clara this time. Perhaps Barcelona, the planet not the city. He never did get to take Rose there. Or maybe New Earth, they could check how people there were going after being freed by the Face of Boe. Or should he just set the course at random like usual? Much more exciting that way, he thought.

As he entered the last corridor that lead into the console room, however, he stopped as he heard something strange. Listening closely, he heard a lot of raised voices coming from the console room, arguing with each other. The weird thing was, they all sounded like Clara.

Starting to feel apprehensive, and hoping his companion was okay, the Doctor slowly moved towards the entrance, braced himself for whatever could be happening, and quietly stepped into the room.

What?

 _What?_

WHAT?!

What in the name of Rassilon was happening here?!

Eyes widened in shock, the Doctor watched the ludicrous scene before him, as perhaps a dozen angry and exhausted-looking Claras stood or sat around the console screaming for the location of their bedroom.

How did this happen, the Doctor desperately asked himself, before realising this must be the T.A.R.D.I.S stepping up a level in her attempts to mess with the unfortunate woman. He continued to look around the room, hoping none of the Claras would notice him. He was very glad Captain Jack was not here, as the outrageous flirt would not have been able to refrain from making a comment and likely exacerbating the situation further.

 _Why_ exactly were those two Claras up there looking at each other in that way? Did they-?

 _NOPE!_

That was not a can of worms he wanted to open, ever.

In fact, this entire situation was beginning to scare him, and he wanted out.

The Doctor slowly began to back out of the room, hoping to quietly leave before any of the Claras could notice him. Unfortunately, as he was still watching the centre of the room and not where he was going, he inadvertently bumped into the edge of the doorway, letting out a startled gasp. Recovering, he looked back at the women in the room, and winced when he saw them all glaring at him.

Gulping, he called out in a faux-cheerful voice, "Hello, Claras. How did you sleep?" He then winced at his terrible, terrible choice of words, cursed himself for his idiocy, and ran for it.

As he bolted through the corridors, he heard each of the Claras running after him, yelling for him to fix their predicament. He muttered to the walls he passed, "Very funny prank. Now fix it, please?" The responding beeps told him that the T.A.R.D.I.S found the whole thing quite hilarious, and wanted to keep it going.

The Doctor sighed, wondering how he was going to fix this and make it so Clara had her bedroom back and wasn't crossing her own time stream multiple times, since his blue box was clearly having too much fun to stop it herself.


	5. Lin's Trauma

**5\. Lin's Trauma:**

 **This next one-shot is set a while after the 2019 New Year's special Resolution, and shows Lin struggling with the trauma of her ordeal while Mitch tries to help her.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor Who series, Lin or Mitch.**

—

 _She was walking through a darkened tunnel, searching for something. What she was searching for, she didn't know. Water flowed along the ground to her right, and dripped down the wall. She shone her torch around the room, looking for the missing item._

 _Scanning the wall beside her, she suddenly froze in fear. Where the torchlight was currently aiming, a squid-like creature was revealed to be attached to the wall. The sight brought up a bad feeling in her, telling her it was dangerous, that she should run._

 _Despite these thoughts, she felt her body move closer in curiosity. Reaching out to touch it._

 _Her fingers made contact, and the creature latched itself onto her. Wrapping around her. A tentacle penetrating the back of her neck._

 _And suddenly her body was no longer hers._

…

" _I am your pilot now."_

 _She struggled to move. To reach a hand to rip the tentacle out of her neck. To turn when she decided. To force the horrible creature off of her. To control her own movements. To resist the creature's demands._

" _Do not fight me. I have control of your body. All brain and motor functions are under my power."_

 _She felt the creature talk with her own mouth._

" _You are my prisoner now. You are my puppet."_

 _She felt sick. Sick from the contact of the disgusting monster. From the feeling of her body, mind and free will being violated. The helplessness of being unable to stop the evil thing from getting what it wanted._

" _You have no choice. Do not struggle, or your friends will die, at your hands."_

…

 _The police officers stood outside her car, telling her how much she'd been speeding. Part of her knew what was about to happen, and she wanted to tell them to run. To save themselves. Another part of her was desperate for freedom, and wanted to beg them to save her._

 _She opened her mouth to make one of these requests. Which one, she didn't know._

" _You are an enemy of the Daleks."_

 _She strangled each of them to death, and she smiled._

…

" _Who has access to the archives?"_

 _She watched as the young man, barely more than a boy, excitedly fumble through his answer. She felt remorse flood through her, and she desperately wanted to scream for him to run away from her._

 _She continued to think this even as she felt herself squeezing the life out of him, and dragging his body to scan his DNA to gain entry to the archives._

…

 _She gazed around the farm, seeing the equipment needed for the Dalek's casing. The farmer walked out towards her, telling her to leave._

 _She felt helpless to stop her arm from raising the Dalek's gunstick and pulling the trigger._

…

 _She saw Mitch, the Doctor, Yasmin and Ryan running towards her. She felt Mitch sit beside her and hold her, as the Doctor crouched in front of her and told her she had nothing to be sorry for, that she fought and won._

 _She felt a surge of gratitude towards each of these people, who had told her to hold on while they did everything they could to find and reach her._

 _She also felt a sudden, unwelcome surge of hatred envelope her, and she smiled as tentacles reached from behind her to seize the Doctor, and she turned towards the man she'd had a crush on for some time, and reached for his throat to strangle him._

—

Lin burst upright into a sitting position, gasping for air and shaking. She glanced around the room in a panic, searching for monsters crawling towards her.

"Lin!" a familiar voice called in alarm, and something touched her arm, prompting Lin to flinch back in fear, only to see Mitch sitting up in the bed beside her. "What happened?"

Seeing Mitch's concerned face helped calm her slightly, and she looked around the room, seeing that they weren't in the sewers but in her bedroom. And there were no monsters coming for her. It was just the two of them.

Seeing that she wasn't in any danger, she leaned forward and placed her face in her hands, trying to settle her racing heart and breathing. She felt Mitch reach for her again, and this time she let him hold her without jerking away.

"Another nightmare?" Mitch asked, and Lin nodded her head shakily. "Don't worry, you're safe here. It can't get you. It's not real."

"Most of it was real," Lin muttered. Mitch pulled her in towards him into a hug and began rubbing her back, trying to help her ground herself. Eventually, Lin's breathing became more steady, and she relaxed into Mitch's arms.

While her immediate panic receded, the sick feeling of guilt remained in her stomach, and the images of the actions she had committed that day continued to play out in her mind.

"Lin?" Mitch asked, looking at her with concern in his eyes, and she realised she was silently crying. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

Lin struggled to regain her voice for a few moments, then turned towards Mitch, despair clearly shown on her face. "I'm a murderer."

"No Lin," Mitch said forcibly, desperate to stop her from thinking this way. "You're not a murderer. You're not capable of that."

"I killed all those people, Mitch," Lin insisted. "Four people died at my own hands. I rebuilt the Dalek's casing, which so many more people to die. And I felt myself enjoying it, hating them, wanting to keep killing them-"

"That wasn't you!" Mitch cut her off. "The Dalek was controlling you. You are not responsible for any of that. And you fought it off in the end. That shows how strong you really are."

Lin continued to sit there miserably. She wanted to believe what he was saying, but her doubts and guilt remained.

"None of it was your fault, Lin," Mitch told her.

"Mitch-" Lin prepared to argue further.

"It wasn't your fault," Mitch repeated. "Say it after me. It wasn't your fault."

"But-"

"It wasn't your fault."

Seeing the insistent look on Mitch's face, Lin struggled with herself for a moment, then said weakly, "It wasn't my fault." She then repeated more convincingly, "It wasn't my fault."

Mitch looked at her for a moment longer, then moved the two of them back to lie against the pillows. "One day," he whispered, "you're going to believe that yourself, and you're going to be okay. I promise."

Lin nodded slightly, feeling somewhat better now, and allowed herself to fall back to sleep, feeling safe with Mitch there with her.


	6. Consider the Doctor

**6\. Consider the Doctor:**

 **This next one follows the Doctor during the event that Missy tells Clara about early in the episode The Witch's Familiar. The middle section was inspired by the episode Heaven Sent.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor Who series or the Doctor.**

—

 _Consider the Doctor._

 _The Doctor trapped._

 _The Doctor alone._

 _On the run,_

 _no T.A.R.D.I.S,_

 _no friends,_

 _no help._

 _The Doctor happy._

—

Ducking behind the pillars as he ran past, the Doctor scanned the area for the pursuing threats. Seeing nothing, he swiftly made his way further up the tower staircase.

Hearing something coming, he quickly ducked behind another pillar. Looking down at the teleporter around his wrist, he once again attempted to activate it, to no avail.

He paused to quickly evaluate his situation. He was alone in the tower. No T.A.R.D.I.S, no friends or allies, no help of any kind coming. All exits out of reach. His only means of escape out of power. And he was being stalked by about fifty android assassins, all of which had cloaking abilities and had been designed exclusively to kill him.

Grinning smugly, the Doctor imagined the looks that would be on his friends' faces when he told them how he got out of this predicament.

Hearing the androids closing in, he broke out into a run up the flights of stairs, looking out for hostiles and dodging blasts from their weapons. As he came close to reaching the top, he suddenly forced himself to stop, seeing the area above him distorting and realising one of the assassins was approaching from above. Looking around, he noticed that more hostiles stood on the level above, preparing to fire at him. Backing away, he looked down only to see several more scattered below him, cutting him off.

He was surrounded.

This was his last thought before he saw blasts of energy fire out of each gun, headed straight towards him.

—

 _The Doctor burst through the T.A.R.D.I.S doors, quickly making his way to the console._

" _Go on, people," he eagerly prompted. "Ask me. You know you want to. Ask me how I survive."_

 _Typing in the necessary calculations on his console, he elaborated, "I am surrounded by android assassins, all designed specifically to kill me. I've been cut off from all exits. I have nothing to defend myself with, and they have all fired their guns at me. I have approximately four nanoseconds to find a way to survive. Should be impossible, right?" He then smirked. "Unless you assume you'll survive, then four nanoseconds is all you need!"_

" _Rule one of dying;" the Doctor continued, "don't. Rule two; slow down. You have the rest of your life. The faster you think, the slower it will pass. Concentrate. Assume you're going to survive, always assume that. Imagine you've already survived. Get into the storeroom in your mind, lock the door, and think._

" _Question; what tools do I have that I can use to escape? Answer; a teleport device. Problem; it's out of power. Another question; is there any available energy in the vicinity? Answer; yes, about to disintegrate me in a few nanoseconds. Another question; can I use that energy for the teleport? Answer; yes." The Doctor grinned smugly. "I took the teleport from the androids, and they use the same energy for their weapons and teleports. All I need to do, is use the incoming energy wave to recharge the teleport at just the right moment. And do I have anything I can use to transfer the energy? You know I do."_

—

Full of confidence, the Doctor ducked down, raised the arm with the teleport device, and held his trusted sonic screwdriver above it, one end held against it and the other pointed up to meet the blasts of energy. Milliseconds later, he felt the energy course through his body, yet he felt no fear, as he knew he would not die. A moment later, his vision cleared, and he saw that he stood in a different area within the tower. No hostiles in sight.

Grinning at his success, he began to strut towards the exit, knowing the androids would no longer be searching for him as they believed he had disintegrated.

His way out was clear.

This was what he thought, until he suddenly fell through an unexpected opening in the floor into the darkness below.

Landing hard, the Doctor strained his vision in the pitch black, felt around for his sonic, and shook it until it finally lit up, revealing numerous sets of eyes staring back at him from the darkness. A second later, the creatures' noises revealed to him what they were.

Vampire Monkeys.

'Of course it's Vampire Monkeys,' the Doctor thought to himself. 'Just my luck. Right as I was in the clear'.

'Better get back to it, I suppose'.

—

 _But that's another story._


	7. I'm Just A Traveler

**7\. I'm Just A Traveler:**

 **Set during a moment late in The Woman Who Fell to Earth, with the Doctor reflecting on her previous lives and how she just wants to travel.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor Who series, the Doctor, or Yasmin.**

—

"So everything we saw, everything we've lied to people about, is this normal for you?" Yasmin asked.

' _Yes'_ , the Doctor silently thought, though she kept this to herself. Reflecting over her many previous long lives, she remembered everything he had done during his travels. All the battles he had fought, all the worlds he had saved, everything he had lost, all the enemies he had made.

When he had begun all those years ago, when he and Susan had stolen the T.A.R.D.I.S from Gallifrey and sailed off into the universe, he had intended to merely travel the stars and see what was out there. Helping out if someone needed help, but otherwise merely exploring the universe. Back then, he never could've imagined what he would eventually become. He never knew just how big of an impact he would have on the universe. How many countless lives he would affect, for better or for worse. How well known he would be throughout all of time and space.

He'd fought in and survived wars that ravaged the cosmos and threatened to tear the fabric of reality apart. He'd faced the worst monsters the universe had produced and defeated them time and time again. He'd traveled through all of history until his very life was woven into the timeline. He'd saved countless lives, and ruined countless others. Large parts of the universe saw him as a heroic saviour, while others saw him as a ruthless warrior, and some others saw him as a monster.

Along the way, he had made countless friends and companions, and the times they spent with him always brought great joy into his life, and they helped him remain on the right path. Yet one by one, each of them would inevitably leave or be taken from him, while he would be forced to continue on alone.

Throughout his life, his actions had earned him many names from the worlds he'd visited, and not all of them were good. The lonely god, the oncoming storm, mighty warrior, the predator of the Daleks, the Beast, the Doctor of War, the renegade, the Butcher of Skull Moon, the great destroyer, a madman with a box, the Destroyer of Skaro, the Imp of the Pandorica, the Beast of Trenzalore, the Great Destruction of the Universe, the Curator, the Bringer of Darkness, the Valeyard.

After everything he had done and experienced throughout the millennia, the Doctor decided that she wanted a fresh start. From his previous attempts at this, she knew that inevitably something big would happen again, but for the time being she wished to return to a simpler life. To just travel with friends again, helping out where necessary but preventing any big conflicts from escalating, and avoiding drawing attention to herself. As he had told her before regenerating, she wanted to 'laugh hard, run fast, be kind.'

"I'm just a traveler," the Doctor answered Yasmin. "Sometimes I see things that need fixing, and do what I can."


	8. O

**8\. O:**

 **Spoilers for the series 12 premiere Spyfall, Part One. This one follows how I imagine the new Master to have gone from his regeneration to assuming O's identity and tricking the Doctor. This is assuming that the O incarnation is in between the Harold Saxon and Missy incarnations, which I'm hoping is the case.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor Who series or the Master.**

—

Gasping with pain, the Master opened the door to his T.A.R.D.I.S and staggered inside, clutching his stab wound. He bitterly thought about the woman who drove the knife into him. His future self, apparently, who had somehow softened and wanted to help the Doctor, their enemy. Disgusted by this, the Master took some satisfaction out of having put an end to that nonsense, by blasting her with his laser screwdriver at full power and preventing her from regenerating. The Master chuckled at the irony of this; having spent all his lives doing everything he could to stay alive at all costs, only to eventually willingly cause his own death.

Groaning, the Master stood, feeling the energy coursing through his body and rebuilding his cells. He was bitter at the thought of being about to become his weakened future self, but took solace in the knowledge that her foolishness would not last.

With this thought, the incarnation of the Master formerly known as Harold Saxon spread out his arms, and let himself go, feeling the agony of the regeneration energy consuming him and rearranging his entire body.

After some moments of pure agony, it finally stopped. Taking a moment to recover from the torture and steady himself, the Master opened his eyes, and slowly moved to look into his reflection. To his surprise, he did not see the face of the woman that betrayed him. Instead, he saw the face of a British-Indian man.

As he processed this knowledge, his surprise turned to glee as he realised he would not become Missy yet. He still had at least one more life before her, perhaps more. And he would make the Doctor pay for what he did to the Master's future. The Master could already feel his memories of his future beginning to fade, but he resolved to make the Doctor suffer.

Grinning, the Master imagined how the Doctor would react to seeing him again. The idiot's jaw hanging open, letting out a shocked and panicked "oh". Laughing, the Master activated his T.A.R.D.I.S and dematerialised away. This was going to be fun!

—

Standing close to MI6 headquarters, the Master observed the man driving towards the building, fingering his old Tissue Compression Eliminator.

He'd given some thought about what kind of chaos he wanted to cause for the Doctor and his precious Earth, and while he wasn't yet sure what he wanted to do, he believed that by setting himself up in the intelligence organisation, he would have better access to knowledge of what was going on and ways for him to exploit them. He had studied MI6 for some time, and discovered a man who looked close enough to his own appearance and was about to start his first day.

This was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Seeing that the man had parked his car and was getting out, the Master waited until the right moment, then jumped out of hiding and blasted the man with his TCE, shrinking him to the size of a figurine.

Hiding the shrunken corpse in a matchbox, the Master quickly sorted through the would-be agent's belongings, then grabbed what he'd need before walking towards the headquarters. He pondered over what he should introduce himself as. Secret agents have code names, don't they?

Remembering his imagination of the Doctor's reaction, he suddenly decided. He would name himself O, after the horrified and satisfying gasp people tended to make when they realised who he really was.

Letting out a brief snigger, O straightened his face into something professional-looking, and began his first day at work.

—

Chuckling, the Master read the text currently displayed on his phone.

He had been in disguise as O for a few years now. It was annoying that he had to play nice with all these apes, but he knew it would all be worth it in the end. Especially when the foolish Doctor discovered the truth.

He had recently met with the Doctor, though the idiot believed him to be a rather nice young agent, and had decided to keep up a texting relationship with him. If only he knew who he really was. This would hurt him when he found out.

Grinning, the Master sent a response. He was going to enjoy this.

—

Sitting outside his T.A.R.D.I.S, currently looking like a house, in the Australian Great Victoria Desert, the Master thought over the recent events as his plan unfolded. His pawn Daniel Barton had been quite useful in providing him with intelligence (especially after the idiot C had fired him; he was very satisfied at having brought about that man's death), as well as drawing attention away from himself.

In addition, he had recently made an alliance with a rather powerful race of extra dimensional beings. He would easily be able to conquer the Earth with them, and he would enjoy making the Doctor watch as he did so.

Hearing the wheezing, groaning sound of a T.A.R.D.I.S materialising, he eagerly anticipated what would come next.

"Say hello to the Doctor," the Master told the nearby agents.

—

"How long have you known the Doctor, Graham?" the Master asked the old man, keeping up his friendly facade.

"Well that's a tricky one to answer, that," he answered. "You see, things never really happen in a straight line with the Doc. How much do you know about that?"

"A bit," the Master responded verbally. _'A lot more than you'll ever know,'_ he thought silently. "Our paths crossed very briefly, once, when she was a man."

"When she was a what?" Graham asked, looking shocked.

"Has she never mentioned that?"

"I thought she was joking."

The Master smiled, wondering how little these new pets of the Doctor actually knew about her. "You got any idea where she's from?"

"Well, we've tried to ask but she just changes the subject," Graham answered.

So, the Doctor had conveniently failed to tell her new friends any of her secrets. Gallifrey, the Time Lords, the Time War, the Doctor's darker sides, it had all been kept secret, and Graham, Ryan and Yasmin still saw the idealistic facade the Doctor liked to present. Oh, how satisfying it would be to tear all that down for them.

"I've got a whole shelf, over there," the Master pointed at the indicated shelf, "all about the Doctor. Everything I could gather." _'And I could tell you so much more than that.'_ "A lot of inconsistencies, but it's very very interesting. Do you want to have a look?" _'Please say yes,'_ he silently pleaded with the tempted man.

Before he could answer, they were interrupted as the Doctor came out of her T.A.R.D.I.S, carrying a jug. _'Darn it,'_ the Master thought to himself.

"Morning, you two," she greeted them. "Everyone has a lot to catch up on. I made iced tea. Possibly."

—

"Never been good a sprinting?" the Doctor asked him as the five of them settled into Barton's plane.

"I was the last one in every race at school," the Master said, trying to cover for his difficulty running fast enough.

"Nonono," the Doctor insisted, "I read your file. You're a champion sprinter."

The moment she said that, the Master knew his cover had been blown. _'Damn,'_ he thought. Though as he looked towards the Doctor, he knew he was going to reveal himself soon anyway, so this wouldn't be a problem for him. "Got me," he sneered at her, "well done."

As he relished in seeing the Doctor's confusion, he heard Graham ask what was going on, to which the Doctor answered that she didn't know. "Well you best take a look out the window," the Master prompted them.

The Doctor and her friends moved to look out the windows, through which the Master knew they would see his T.A.R.D.I.S, still disguised as a house, floating through the air.

"How is your house out there?" Graham asked.

"Well it's a bit Wicked Witch of the West, but you get the gist. Maybe, maybe not." The Master turned back to look at the Doctor, who was looking confused and betrayed. "Oh come on, Doctor, catch up, you can do this," he prompted her, feeling the anticipation building within him.

Seconds later, he saw the exact moment the realisation struck her, as her horror grew and she let out a terrified "Ohhh."

Grinning, the Master felt so much satisfaction as he saw this. "That-that-that's my name, and that is why I chose it. So satisfying," he said, barely containing his excitement. "Doctor, I did say to look for the spymaster. Or, should I say spy, _Master_."

"Hi," he waved as he watched the Doctor reel from shock and horror.

"You can't be," she said.

"Oh I can be, I very much am."

"What's going on then?" Ryan asked. "He's not really O?"

"I'm her best enemy," the Master answered as he passed the Doctor in the aisle. Sniggering, he introduced himself to the confused Humans. "Call me Master."

"Call you what?" Graham asked.

"Master?" Ryan muttered, confused.

"Me and her," the Master smiled at the Doctor, "we go way, way, way back."

"I met O," the Doctor insisted.

"I know," the Master said.

"Years ago," the Doctor said. At this, the Master started laughing uncontrollably, delighted by how thoroughly he had played the Doctor.

"But there was an O at MI6 he was talking about," Ryan stated.

"Yeah," the Master said, "a man very close to my heart. Well in my pocket actually. Do you want to see him?" he asked the Doctor. "It's always good to keep a backup of one's work." He pulled out the matchbox, then said to the Humans, "Tissue compression, it's a classic." Turned back to the horrified Doctor, he opened the matchbox and revealed the shrunken corpse inside, giggling as he did so. "I ambushed him, on his way to work first day. Shrunk him, took his identity, and set myself up in MI6. Surprisingly good stuff, TCE" He moved to put the matchbox back in his pocket, then changed his mind and tossed it aside. Bouncing and clapping with excitement, he said, "I have had a lot of fun!"

"I need to warn Barton!" the Doctor declared as she ran to the cockpit. He knew however that she would not find him there, as the Master had already sent Barton away. As expected, the Doctor came back saying he wasn't there.

As the Humans followed the Doctor into the cockpit, the Master sat down to get out of the way. In response to Graham questioning who was flying the plane, he answered, "Wrong question. Check the seat," where he knew they would find a bomb.

Smirking, the Master moved back into the middle of the aisle and said, "Cockpit bomb. Short fuse. I can relate to that."

Seeing the Doctor was attempting to use her sonic screwdriver to disable the bomb, he yelled, "No! Do you really think, I would not make that sonic-proof, Doctor?! Come on! Deadlock sealed, and I made sure, no parachutes on board."

"There must be a way," the Doctor yelled, panicking.

"But where's Barton?" Yasmin asked, "we saw him coming in."

"Got taken away before takeoff," the Master answered, "by me. Stick with me Yas because I control everything. Even these guys." Whistling and clicking his fingers, he wheeled around to see his allies materialising into the plane.

"I can't do it! Get out of the way!" the Doctor yelled as she and her companions ran out of the cockpit. She slammed and held the door shut, just as the bomb blew the cockpit apart and blasted the door away. The Master held on to the seats and yelled as he felt the plane begin to fall.

Staggering over towards where the Doctor and Humans desperately held on, he said to her, "One last thing, something you should know, in the second before you die. Everything that you think you know, is a lie!"

Standing over his mortal enemy in victory, he declared, "Got you, finally!" before teleporting away.

—

 **I really loved this episode, especially when the Master revealed himself. I think this season's off to a great start so far, and I'm looking forward to checking out the next part, which I'll see after posting these couple of one-shots. Though since this version of the Master is back to being evil, I do hope that he is not meant to be a post-Missy incarnation, but rather post-Saxon or perhaps even earlier, as I'd hate for them to scrap Missy's redemption arc.**


End file.
